Take On Me
by grangerinvestigations
Summary: Is McLaggen really the best person to make Ron jealous? Wouldn't Draco be even better? Oneshot. HGDM. HBP compatible.


**Disclaimer: I do not own HP, Draco or Hermione.  
**

It was common knowledge in Slytherin house that despite Draco Malfoy's hatred of muggleborns in general, and Hermione Granger in particular, he would still bang her if he got the chance. Sure she was a filthy, low-born, obnoxious, know-it-all bitch - she was also hot. Gone were the days of buck-teeth and bushy hair. No one could deny that Hermione had grown up nicely, and what she saw in that red-haired monstrosity was anyone's guess. Not only that, but as Harry Potter's best friend and the widely acknowledged smartest witch in school, Hermione would be quite the feather in Draco's cap. The idea of owning that prissy little slut - well, it was pretty much his main wanking material. Parkinson didn't even come close. He was usually hexing her in his daydreams, too, but why not have the best of both worlds? He wasn't obsessed, exactly, but she was on his mind a lot. The other Slytherins knew this, but they didn't judge - who wouldn't fuck Granger if they could? Of course, it was also common knowledge that Draco's hate-fueled lust was not reciprocated by Granger. Hermione Granger was many things, but she was not a masochist.

No, Hermione hated Draco with every fiber of her being. She thought he was a spoiled, cruel, racist reprobate, and realistically, she wasn't far from the truth. Draco did not have too many redeeming qualities. He was a talented wizard, sure, but so was Lord Voldemort, so that wasn't exactly a stunning endorsement. He was also good-looking, but Gilderoy Lockhart was handsome, too. Again, not a favorable comparison. Hermione had the odd daydream about Malfoy, too; elaborate fantasies where she slapped him over and over and turned him into the Amazing Bouncing Ferret. Her fondest whimsy involved feeding him in ferret form to a ravenous Buckbeak. Ahh, that would be bliss. Hermione tried not to sully her mind with too many thoughts of Malfoy, though. He was little more than a slug to her. A very annoying, very pasty slug.

Normally, Malfoy was number two on her most hated list, right under Voldemort himself and just a shade above Puggy McBitch. Right now, however, that spot (she really couldn't downgrade Voldemort, as much as she'd love to right now) was occupied by none other than Ronald Bilius Weasley, the red-headed bane of her existence.

Hermione had loved Ron for years. She loved him before she was even old enough to feel that way about a boy. He drove her absolutely mad, of course, but she loved him anyway. She'd tried to ignore the flutter in her stomach she got when she was around him; tried to steel herself to the fact that he would only ever think of her as a friend. Then fourth year, and the Yule Ball happened. Ron's reaction to her date and subsequent friendship with Viktor Krum left little doubt that he returned her feelings, subconsciously perhaps, but returned them all the same. She waited for him to make his move. And waited. And waited. She'd actually started noticing a few new guys, just as back-up, mind you. One could never be too careful. Finally, just when she was starting to give up hope, their time had come. He was escorting her to Slughorn's Christmas party and they were on the path to happily-ever-after. She imagined a big double wedding with Harry and Ginny and lots of little brunette (_please_, let them have brown hair) children. Then that silly little bint Lavender Brown screwed it all up.

She wasn't mad at Lavender, exactly - she hated her, yes, but she knew Ron was to blame. She didn't know what had caused him to turn on her, but she wasn't taking it lying down. So, she asked Cormac McLaggen to Slughorn's party. Two could play this game. She'd give Ron Weasley a taste of his own potion.

Close by, Draco was seething. It was humiliating to have been left out of the party. He couldn't believe that Slughorn would snub him, just because his father had been stupid enough to land himself in Azkaban. Secretly, Draco feared he might end up there himself - the "job" the Dark Lord had given him had not exactly been de-gnoming a garden. It didn't help that Snape was constantly up his ass. His grades were slipping and he was in serious danger of losing his place on the Quidditch team. Sixth year was not, so far, the triumph he had been hoping for, and now he couldn't even get into a party given by a famous Slytherin! Ridiculous. Draco was quickly losing a grip on his standing as Prince of Slytherin. Something had to give, and soon.

His night began to look up when he saw Granger. She was leaving the party, hair disheveled and looking as miserable as he could wish. He knew things were bad with the Weasel, and that Granger was using McLaggen to get revenge. Pretty stupid of her; McLaggen was even worse than Weasely, and that was saying something. He wasn't exactly known for being gallant. No doubt she'd barely escaped with her virtue intact. If she had any left, that is.

Draco stepped back against the wall, bathing himself in shadows. He didn't need a cloak to become invisible. Being sneaky was second nature to Slytherins like himself. He watched her progress and decided to follow her. Maybe this night wasn't a total wash, after all.

Stupid Ron. Stupid McLaggen. Stupid Slughorn's stupid party. Hermione could not believe what a fiasco the Christmas party had been. She had hoped that Ron would realize she was not waiting around for him forever. When she first saw Ron and Lavender kissing, her world had come tumbling down. After the "incident" with the birds, however, she realized she could not lie in her dorm and wallow. She needed to be proactive. She seriously considered asking Zacharias Smith to the party - he was certain to raise Ron's ire - but in the end the idea of talking to that arrogant prat all night was too much to bear. A Slytherin, _any _Slytherin, briefly flitted through her mind, but it was doubtful she could find one who would sully themselves with a muggleborn. As Hermione racked her brain for someone else Ron hated, she finally settled on Cormac McLaggen. It was funny. Cormac was only one year above Hermione, Ron and Harry, but she had never really noticed him until this year. He was cute enough, and Ron certainly disliked him, so he would have to do. He had puffed up when she asked him, volunteering the information that he'd had his eye on her for some time. Apparently, he thought she was spoken for, and this "saved him the trouble" of breaking up her and Ron. Hermione had little doubt that the evening would be a tremendous disaster.

She had not, however, expected to be groped by the Quidditch-obsessed tool for the majority of the evening. After he cornered her under the mistletoe, she knew she must take drastic action. After speaking briefly to Harry, Hermione snuck out of the party, leaving poor McLaggen behind. She doubted he would appreciate the blow to his ego, but she also doubted he would mourn her for long. There were plenty of other girls for him to snow. It wasn't like Ron was at the party to see them together, anyway.

Hermione decided that what she needed was a break from everyone. Harry meant well, but he just did not understand what she was going through. Likewise, Ginny advised her to hold tight and Ron would come around. But why should she have to wait for Ron to wise up? Why should Ron have his Lavender and eat his Hermione, too? Wait, that didn't sound right. Shaking her head, Hermione headed to the one place she could get a little peace and quiet - the Room of Requirement.

Draco could not believe his luck. Granger was walking straight towards the Room of Requirement. Draco was extremely familiar with the helpful room, having already spent a large part of the year there. All he would need to do is ask for Granger, and the room would lead him right to her. He didn't need to know what she was doing there; since he had seen Granger enter the room, it would not keep him from her. He had no idea what he was going to do once he entered the room, but he'd play it by ear.

Hermione sighed in relief. The Room of Requirement had provided her with a cozy fire, a comfortable chair and a copy of Hogwarts, A History. She had hot cocoa, scones and even her favorite pajamas. No Crookshanks, but as close to perfect as she could hope for. She changed quickly and settled into the chair. Her night was definitely looking up.

Draco walked past the room three times, whispering "Give me Granger, give me Granger, give me Granger." And just like that, his prayers were answered.

"What the-" Hermione jumped out of her chair at the sound of the door opening. Was it possible Ron had tracked her down, ready to beg for forgiveness? Her eyes widened at the unexpected visitor - it was Malfoy! Hermione immediately whipped out her wand, but unfortunately, Malfoy already had his pointed at her.

"Now, Granger, what happened to the Christmas spirit?" he asked, smirking. Granger was looking particularly tasty in Gryffindor-red pajamas pants and tank top. Those robes really did nothing to highlight her lithe figure. _More than one wand trained and ready_, he thought to himself with another signature smirk.

"What do you want, Ferret?" Hermione asked, trying to mask her fear. "You've already crashed one private party this evening. Can't you tell when you're not wanted?"

Draco bristled at her words, but kept his face clear. "Granger, I'm here on a peace mission. Let's not slander, shall we?" He really wanted to call her mudblood, but if he had any chance of scoring this evening, he would have to keep their conversation at least a tiny bit civil.

"You don't know the meaning of the word peace, Malfoy," Hermione scoffed. "Please leave."

"Okay, Granger, if you won't believe I come here in peace, perhaps you'll believe I come here to benefit myself. And you in the process."

"The only way I could benefit from this encounter is if I slap you again," said Hermione.

"That could maybe be arranged," Draco said, leering at her. "Look, Granger, we both know why you're here. I'm not the only one who's noticed the ongoing will-they-or-won't-they saga between you and the Weasel."

"Get _out _of here, Malfoy!" Hermione shrieked, going scarlet. Merlin, did she need this shit right now?

"Not until you hear me out. I could have hexed you twenty times by now, Granger," Draco told her. "Just listen."

He had a point. She was lucky she wasn't naked and sprouting antlers. She rolled her eyes and gave a huge, long-suffering sigh. She plopped back down into her chair and gave Malfoy a "please continue" motion.

"Thank you," he said. "Now, a few of us in Slytherin had bets going that you were going to enlist Scarhead to make the Weasel jealous."

Hermione snorted and started to protest, but Draco silenced her with his hands. "I never said _I_ thought that, Granger. I know Saint Potty is too noble to dip his quill in his friend's inkwell."

"You're disgusting, Malfoy," she said, eyes blazing. "Get to the point in two minutes, or I will hex you into oblivion."

"But I think you could do better than McLaggen," he continued, as if she had not spoken. "The Weasel's still curled up with Brown, and what about you? You're stuck here with me. McLaggen's not a real threat. Everyone, even Weasley, knows that."

"And what do you suggest, Malfoy?" Hermione asked impatiently, rising to her feet and facing him. "That I become a dried up old maid? As if anyone else would want a 'long-molared mudblood' like me anyway, right?"

"I'm suggesting me."

"What?" she sputtered, going scarlet again. "What are you on about, Ferret?"

"I'm suggesting you use _me _to make Weaselbee jealous. And not just a little jealous. Biblically jealous," Draco said, trying to mask his unease. At best, he was going out of here a ferret. Worse case scenario, she'd curse his balls off.

"First of all, I just threw up in my mouth," said Hermione. "Second, I would never defile myself with you. Third, if I did, I would never tell anyone about it, but rather hide it away like the shameful secret it would be. Fourth, how can I make Ron jealous with you, when he would never touch me again? Your idea has some major flaws, Ferret. Now get out."

Draco inwardly rejoiced. The simple fact that she didn't immediately hit him with an Unforgivable Curse meant he had a chance. However slight, he actually had a chance to bed Granger. His pants tightened at the thought.

"C'mon, Granger," Draco wheedled. "I'm not a complete idiot. Of course we could never tell anyone about it. Do you think my friends would be any more forgiving than yours?"

Hermione threw up her hands. "Then what are you talking about? How can I make Ron jealous without him knowing it?"

"_You _would know it, Granger," Draco said, walking towards her. Hermione unconsciously took a step back. "_You _would know you fucked his greatest enemy, even if he didn't. It would give you back the power. He can't make you feel small when you've got that in your head. He'll sense the change in you, and he'll come back."

"You're raving," Hermione whispered.

"Think about it, Granger," he said, still coming closer. "You walk out of here, after a proper shag from the Slytherin Prince (she rolled her eyes at this), and there'll be a new bounce in your step. You'll have a secret, a dirty little secret that Scarhead and Weasel will never know. It'll change you, make you more confident. Weasel will come running."

"You'll tell," she said, still whispering. Hermione had backed all the way up against the wall, her forgotten wand dangling from one hand. For some reason, she wasn't hexing Draco. For some reason, his closeness was making her breath short and her mind fuzzy.

"I'll never tell," Draco said. God, he almost had her. "This isn't a mercy fuck, Granger. I've wanted this for a long time. I scratch your back, you scratch…well, you get the point."

"You're lying," she said, shaking her head. "You hate me. You think I'm a disgusting mudblood."

"Yeah, but I still want you," he said. Draco now stood in front of her. "Think about it, Granger. This will be your greatest revenge against those boy friends of yours. They think you're just a brain they can use for homework, right? Sure, Weasley's noticed you're a girl, but barely. They have no idea that you're really a woman."

"Shut up," Hermione said. She was practically hyperventilating now. He was too close. "I know this is a trick. I'm going to say yes, and you're going to laugh at me and tell everyone."

"No way, Granger," he said silkily. Draco reached up and pushed her hair out of her eyes. She gasped. He traced her lips with one finger. "I'll never tell. This will be one night just for us, to remember forever. We'll know and no one else will. You'll go back to hating me, and I'll go back to hating you." His pants were now painfully tight. Granger was looking up at him with those huge chocolate eyes. Her perfect breasts were rising and falling with each panicked breath she took. He knew she was his. Finally, she was his.

"I hate you now," Hermione said. She couldn't look away from him. Hermione had never noticed Draco's looks before, not really. Her disgust with him had always been too great. But now… His silver eyes and white hair made him look almost ghostly up close. His lips looked full and delicious, and his hands were feather-light on her face. She was a goner.

"The feeling's mutual," Draco said. He leaned down, brushing his lips against hers, barely touching her. Her gasp fueled his desire. "Yes or no, Granger."

"Yes," she breathed. Right now, she wanted nothing more than for him to kiss her again. With a groan, he lowered his lips to hers again. They met in a rush of lips and teeth and tongues, both panting heavily. Draco had Hermione smashed against the wall, one hand buried in her hair, the other working its way under her pajamas. Her skin was smooth and fire-hot.

Hermione arched against him as his hand found her breast. His mouth was trailing down her neck in hot, hungry kisses. He paused to suck her collarbone. She moved her hips against him, moaning at the bulge in his pants. Merlin, what had she gotten herself into? Hermione had always assumed she would lose her virginity to Ron. Now here she was, allowing herself to be ravaged by the most repulsive, evil man in the castle, outside of Snape. And it felt _wonderful_.

Draco felt Hermione's small, frantic fingers fumbling with the zipper on his pants. He groaned against her, pulling her free of her pajama top and finally feasting his eyes on her naked body. She looked better than he could have imagined. The lust clouding her eyes was for him. Not Weasel, not Krum, not fucking McLaggen. _Him_. He lowered his mouth to her breasts, reveling in the low, throaty moans coming from her. His fingers trailed down her stomach and rested above her pelvic bone. Her own hand had made its way into his pants, and she was stroking him into oblivion.

"Now, Granger," he breathed against her skin. "I need to be in you right now."

"Slow," she managed. His hand was now pressed against her. She moved against it, allowing him to enter her with his long, talented fingers. She had never thought anything could feel so good. He was hard and scorching hot under her hand. He was so _big_, she knew it was going to hurt. But a good kind of hurt.

Her one word of direction was enough for him. Divesting them of their remaining clothes, Draco lowered Hermione onto the floor, magically softened by the Room of Requirement. Keeping his lips upon hers, he pushed himself into her, drinking her small gasp of pain. Once joined, he slowly moved his hips against hers, waiting for her to relax and match his movements. Soon she was meeting him, quickening the pace, both of them shaking with the intensity of the feeling. Draco could hear Hermione muttering quietly, but could not make out the words. He was lost in her. No other girl had ever felt like this.

Hermione's body had quickly accepted his, and the pain had just as quickly changed to mind-blowing pleasure. She wondered briefly if she was sick, allowing Malfoy to do this to her, but all coherent thoughts left her body as his fingers reached between them, touching her. Her release was immediate and intense; her body stiffened around him, and Draco was right behind her.

Sated and drained, Hermione and Draco fell apart, both gasping against the floor.

"Merlin, Ganger," he said. "Who knew you were such a hot ticket?"

"You apparently," she said, leaning up on her elbow and smirking down at him. "According to you, you keep a Hermione Granger doll in your room for those times you're feeling randy." She had expected to feel guilty and used, but on the contrary, Hermione was quite elated. Her body was sore, but still satisfied, and she did have one more trick up her sleeve.

"Naughty, Granger," he said, laughing. "I'll certainly get one now. Of course, it won't be any sort of substitute for the real thing…" He trailed off suggestively. Regular sex with Granger might be just the thing to keep his head clear and focused on his task. That old coot'll be dead before Valentine's Day.

"No way, Malfoy," she said, regaining some of her bossiness. Hermione started to rise and gather her clothes. "This was a one time thing."

"Fine," he said petulantly. "Don't get your knickers in a bunch. There's only so much mudblood stupping I can do anyway."

"Well, that cemented it, Ferret," she said. Draco expected her to be angry, but she looked coolly amused. He thought about wiping that smug look off her face by telling all of Hogwarts that he'd just claimed the virginity of the Gryffindor Golden Girl. Who cared what he promised her? Slytherins were notoriously untrustworthy, after all.

"I can see what you've got in mind, Malfoy," Hermione said, a hint of smile in her voice. She pulled her top over her head, concealing those pretty breasts from his eyes. "I advise you against it."

"What are you going to do about it, Granger?" he asked. "You already gave it up. Since I've little hope of a repeat, what do I have to lose?" He was angrier than he expected. He had been sure that one taste of him, and she would come crawling back for more. Draco was used to getting what he wanted. He was also used to having seconds.

"Are you familiar with Marietta Edgecombe?" Hermione asked sweetly. She stood dressed before him. She looked herself again - brave, resourceful and determined. She also looked inordinately pleased with herself.

"What about her?" he asked warily. There was no one at Hogwarts that didn't know what Hermione had done to Edgecombe. The word _sneak _still disfigured the poor Ravenclaw's face.

"Well, if you breathe a word of this encounter to anyone, your dick is going to look worse than her face." She waited for his reaction.

"You're lying!" Draco spat. "You expect me to believe that, you bitch? I'm walking out of this door and finding Weasley. I'm telling him everything, including how you look when you come."

"Tsk tsk, Malfoy," Hermione said. "You'll be very sad. You even open your mouth with the intention of blabbing this and you can kiss that pale, unblemished cock you're so proud of goodbye. The words _Mudblood Lover _will be permanently stamped in purple on it. I'm not sure how much it will hurt, but I can guarantee it won't be pretty. Or removable."

"You're lying," he repeated stubbornly.

"You wish," she said. "I wasn't chanting your name while we were doing it, Malfoy. I was casting a rather powerful spell. Look, we both had a good time. I admit it. You've got my head back on straight and you couldn't have made the experience any better for me. Really, you were almost a gentleman. Why ruin it? And why risk that pretty dick of yours? I might be lying, sure. But do you want to test me?"

Draco knew he was stuck. Damn that tricky bitch. She was right - why risk it? And it _had _been good. He could leave the room with the knowledge that he was her first. No matter what happened, part of Granger belonged to him forever, and they both knew it.

"Fine," he allowed. "You win, Mudblood. Good luck explaining to the Weasel why you're no longer a virgin when you finally get around to doing it."

"Broomstick accident, Malfoy," Hermione said, her eyes twinkling. "I've got it all sorted out." And with that, she gave him a filthy grin and marched out of the room.

"Well, how the fuck do you like that," Draco said in amazement. That was one _hell _of a Gryffindor. Shaking his head ruefully, he followed her out the door. Maybe he could still find Pansy.


End file.
